Trail of Roses
by JerichoholicAnonymous
Summary: Seth would've never guessed that a faraway escape from his monotonous life would culminate in him finding his soulmate.


Hello there! Here's an AU Ambrollins story. I've had this one on the back burner for months now and for whatever reason, I was putting off finishing it. But here it is in all its finalized glory. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Sometimes you need to get away when the going gets tough, get away from the worries of life, get away from anyone who's ever brought you pain. That's the mindset that Seth has as he drives away into the sunset, radio on full blast, craving a getaway like his life depends on it.

His life has been a repetitive pattern, plagued by a failed relationship, a shitty job, and a habit of disappointing the people around him. Seth has had enough, feeling constricted, like a rope is tightening around his neck and draining him of any reason to keep going.

He needs to be by himself for a while. He needs time to contemplate, to reflect, to evaluate. He needs to be away from people, particularly the people who'd brought him misery, who'd brought him to a standstill. Seth wasn't like that before. He was never one to let life slip through his fingers. He wasn't one to halt and settle down. He was always on the move, always looking for the next adventure, always searching for the newest surge of adrenaline. But then, he got an office job that drove him up the wall and a relationship that pulled him down instead of up.

Out on a whim, he took a leave of absence and booked a room in a bed-in-breakfast in a city whose name he'd never heard of before. All he knew was that the house looked beautiful and directly overlooked a beach. Granted, it was a rather cold spring, but Seth didn't mind. Nothing brought him peace like the ocean. It also helped that the advertisement emphasized how secluded the house was. Seth needed that seclusion.

Seth drove for hours before reaching his destination, already deep into the night. The house is as splendid as it looks in the pictures. The house is clearly ancient, passed on from generation to generation. Grey bricks contrast with the blue of the shutters and doors. It lives up to the bill of being completely isolated, no adjacent houses nearby, just rocky hills. Seth feels like he can breathe freely for the first time in a long, long time.

Seth walks up a modest patio and enters the house with a small suitcase in hand. He's immediately greeted by a short, old lady whose smile radiated hospitality despite having probably stayed up waiting for Seth. She informs him of breakfast and dinner times - the place offers free dinner too - and gives him the key to his room. She also lets him know that there's only one other guest registered besides him, which is fine by Seth. The lesser company, the better. He's in no mood to socialize.

His room is a scene out of an old, luxurious hotel. The wall is of the same shade of blue as the details on the outside, the paint peeling in some spots. The bed headboard is a stunning wooden design with golden ornaments laced through. The room is spacious and warm and perfect.

Seth sleeps in a bit later than he'd anticipated to. He ends up having a fitful night of sleep, tossing and turning and restless. He'd frantically wake up and check his phone, anticipating a disaster at work like he'd come to expect in the last two years. But he hadn't received a single thing, blaming it on the poor network service in this neck of the woods. He reminds himself, even in his state of half slumber, that he's off duty for the foreseeable future and that even if there was an emergency, it's not his issue to worry about. At least not right now.

He pulls up the curtains to unveil the most extraordinary scenery he's ever woken up to. The beach was in clear view, waves audibly crashing down onto the shore, the sky cloudy but letting way to some sun. Seth can't help but stand by the windowsill and stare, taking in the peacefulness of the moment.

He eventually makes his way downstairs to the dining room, a room illuminated by large sliding windows. He's late for breakfast, entering with a "good morning" and mumbling his apologies. The hostess was nice enough to save him a plate of bacon and eggs, and Seth thanks her in earnest for her kindness. On the other side of the table is a man sitting, his dirty blond hair appearing from behind the newspaper he's reading. He doesn't raise his head when Seth plants himself on his chair and Seth is quite frankly too hungry to initiate conversation.

It's only when he finishes his food and places his plate in the kitchen sink that the blond stranger lowers his newspaper, looking straight at Seth once he makes his way back. From afar, Seth notes that the man is handsome. He's not sure why that's the first thing that comes into mind, but it is. He's got light colored eyes and strong features, thin lips and what seems to be a light stubble along his jawline.

"Hi."

And his voice is raspy. That's the second mental note that Seth catalogues about this man. He stands up and walks over to Seth, standing a few feet from him and extending his hand. He's even better looking up close.

"I'm Dean."

Seth's brain is working off tune, not quite up to speed, because it's a few seconds later that Seth scatters to shake his hand.

"I'm Seth. Seth Rollins."

Seth doesn't know if it was truly necessary to introduce himself with his last name, seeing how the other man didn't, but it's a force of habit stemming from too many formal introductions in boardrooms and business establishments.

"Nice to meet you, Seth _Rollins_ ," Dean accentuates on his last name, coy smile and dimples on show. "Didn't wanna interrupt your breakfast to introduce myself. You seemed kinda hungry."

"Wouldn't have been a problem."

"Ah, well. I like to make myself scarce." Dean shoots him a lopsided smile, to which Seth doesn't know how to respond. He's devoid of any will to make small talk, but more than anything, he's weirded out by the semblants of butterflies brewing up in his stomach. Thankfully, he's not subjected to the conflict inside his head for much longer.

"I was just about to go into town to get a few things. Need anythin'?"

Seth shakes his head, appreciative of Dean's gesture. "No, thank you."

"Alright. Well, I'll catch you later, Seth."

"Yeah. See ya."

Seth watches as Dean passes him by. He's awkwardly, bizarrely entranced by him and he has to physically shake himself out of his momentary distraction to get his day started.

He returns to his room for the sole purpose of picking up his phone from the nightstand. He walks through the sliding windows out to a patio. He sees a small staircase from which starts a pathway and Seth guesses that it most likely leads to the beach. He lets enquiry get the best of him and he strolls down that pathway, the smell of ocean salt breezing through his nostrils with every step, the sound of the waves crashing louder in his ears as he gets closer.

A couple of wooden lounge chairs are set up in the sand. Seth looks around to find the most breathtaking landscape he's probably ever seen in his life. The roaring blue water reflects clouds that seem to go on until infinity, while rocky mountains enclose the beach left and right in the distance, like the perfect frame around a picture. Seth rids himself of his loafers, the feeling of the smooth golden sand between his toes almost liberating. He plumps down onto one of the chairs and closes his eyes. He hasn't had this sense of serenity in a very long time, hasn't had this tranquil of a moment to himself _ever_.

As soon as the thought crosses Seth's head, his phone frantically starts to vibrate, receiving notification after notification. Much to his dismay, his phone seemingly started picking up network coverage, message after message piling into his inbox. Seth growls, and before he could even go through his texts, his phone starts ringing and it signals trouble. It's his boss, and Seth could hear the flaring anger in his breathing before he even opens his mouth.

It certainly doesn't help that his boss is his dad.

They go at it for a good ten minutes, his boss incensed that Seth picked up his bags and left without much of a warning. He's screaming that the company is drowning in work and that he needs Seth to come back at that very moment. Seth isn't having any of it, yelling that he needs to put himself first for a change, that he needs a breather, that he needs time away from it all, that he would resign if this continued on for much longer. They eventually hang up, Seth unable to continue this conversation. He lies by saying that he'd be back soon, omitting to mention that "soon" meant several days.

So much for having a peaceful moment to himself.

He's still seething a few minutes later, his teeth gritting together when he hears a familiar voice from behind alarming the crap out of him.

"Hey."

"Holy shit."

Seth is still fuming, a hand automatically raised to his chest, and he isn't nearly as amused as Dean seems to be.

"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to startle you."

Seth groans, his eyes uncontrollably furrowed, his head rotating back to the ocean ahead of looking at Dean. "It's fine."

"Mind if I join you?"

Seth really isn't fancying any company. He'd much rather stay on his own and ride this wave of anger out on his own. Not to mention that the shore goes on for miles and miles, and that Dean didn't _have to_ sit right next to him. But even in his state of utter discontent, Seth knows that it'd be incredibly selfish to tell Dean to hit the bricks. He's paying just as much money as he is to rent a room, and he has the same right to sit on that lounge chair if he wants to.

"Nah."

"You sure? You seem pretty upset. I could go over there and sit in the sand."

"No, no, it's fine. Have a seat."

Dean wordlessly sits down, one foot up on the chair and the other dangling in the sand. Seth watches him as he settles down then turns his attention back to the ocean, hoping the foamy waves could wash away the distress in his life, too.

"So what brings you here, Seth?"

"Me?" Seth thinks to answer, turning to the left to find Dean looking at him with expectant eyes, and damn. The sun and clouds are bringing out all these different twinkles of blue in his eyes and they are absolutely gorgeous. Seth's breath catches in his throat, coughing and turning away once more.

"I, uh, came to get away. Taking a lil' break for myself, y'know? Recharging my batteries."

"Does it have anything to do with the argument you were just having?" Dean holds his hands up in defense. "Wasn't eavesdropping or anything. Just heard you arguing from up there."

Seth sighs, no resolve to dismiss Dean's claims. Instead, he just nods. "You could say that... You could say that, alright."

"Girlfriend?"

It should probably annoy Seth that Dean is as straightforward as he is and that he's probably teetering on nosiness. But it doesn't. Somehow, it amuses him, even in the foul mood that he's in. "If you consider my job a girlfriend, then, yeah. It is."

"Hmm. Then you've definitely got girlfriend issues." Dean grins at Seth, his dimples protruding even more, and Seth tries very hard to pretend that those dimples have absolutely no effect on him.

"What about you, Dean? What brings you out there?" Seth mirrors the question, suddenly interested in having somewhat of a back and forth conversation. And, perhaps, he's a little too intrigued by the ruggedly attractive man sitting by his side.

"I come out here every other month, actually. I make it a habit to get away for a few days. I can't do this whole people bullshit for too long."

Seth chuckles. "So you're familiar with this place?"

"Yeah. I love it here. It's like...a total reprieve from the shit of everyday life. Here, it's just you, the beach, and the mountains. It's fuckin' perfect."

"It's exactly what I need."

"Figures," Dean replies, turning his eyes away from Seth as he brings his knees up to his chest, bundling up on himself. "There's no reason a handsome guy would come here by himself otherwise."

Heat rushes all the way up to Seth's cheeks and temples as his eyes widen. As fate would have it, he's probably blushing too, embarrassing himself in the process. Seth looks at Dean but the blond refuses to reciprocate a look back. It's like he'd said nothing out of the norm.

"Are you calling me a handsome guy?"

"Won't you look at that. I think I just did." Dean glances back at Seth through the corner of his eyes, completely and utterly mischievous. It doesn't offend Seth in the slightest. "Unless you have a problem with that."

"No," Seth muffles, "no problem." He hides his lips in the collar of his shirt, and he's astounded that someone is able to make him smile considering the volatile phone call he'd had mere minutes ago.

Dean gazes back at the shore with a smile of his own. They stay silent for several minutes, the silence a comfortable one.

"You know," Dean muses, "if you wake up early enough, you can see a flock of seagulls every morning 'round 7 AM, just as the sun is rising. Prettiest thing you'll ever see."

"Think I might just try to catch that while I'm here."

Something about the image Dean's just described is appealing to him. More so than that, something about Dean is appealing to him. Very, very appealing. He doesn't know what it is about him. All Seth knows is that he feels a pull towards a guy he'd never seen up until this morning. And judging from the way Dean stares back at him, clear blue eyes focused on him, he thinks he may not be the only one feeling this way.

The attraction only amplifies from there. Because before he knows it, Seth's world is turned upside down by a man he wishes he'd met years and years ago.

They spend the entirety of that night chatting about their lives, getting to know each other little by little. Seth discovers that Dean is a freelance architect who runs his own business. He's grateful that he gets to command his own schedule but dreads when he's got a particularly big project requiring many sleepless nights if the given deadline is too close. Seth knows the feeling all too well as a sales manager, knows what it's like when there's too much writing on the table and there's no rest for the weary. Dean feels for Seth when the latter tells him that his boss is his father, given that his company is a family run business. The pressure is tenfold to impress and meet expectations. Family and work will too often intertwine and disappointments always turn into chaotic disputes.

Talking to Dean brings Seth a certain feeling of peace. Something about him makes him spill out every ounce of frustration he's had related to his family, that frustration building and mounting up inside him over time. He feels like a prisoner who's finally been released, who's finally set foot on home soil after months on end behind bars. He couldn't possibly air his grievances in front of anyone else in his life. He doesn't trust any of them, and even if he wanted to, nobody cares enough about his needs to lend him an open ear. Dean is the only one who bothers asking about his feelings. He's the first one to actually care. Or, at least, pretend to care.

Seth slowly starts believing that he genuinely cares, though. The following day, when they're sitting by the beach, Dean implores him to turn off his phone, and when he doesn't, he takes matters into his own hands.

"Dean! What the fuck, man?"

"You haven't stopped typing on your phone since this morning." Dean retorts, snatching the phone away from Seth's fingers and turning it off himself.

Seth had been getting bombarded with work related emails and angry texts from his father. It'd been heavily weighing down on him and Seth couldn't help but succumb to the pressure, feeling the pressing need to respond and wait for responses to his responses. Once it starts, it's a vicious cycle Seth can't get out of.

"But I need to-"

"Reply to your dad? Read your emails? Come on, Seth. You might as well go back home."

"But-"

"Do you wanna go home?" Dean insists, a serious glare on his face, a firmness to his tone, almost like a 'yes' from Seth would actually hurt him.

"No..."

"So the phone stays off."

"Fine. Whatever." Seth humphs, scolded and placated. And just like that, something relaxes in Dean's face. He seems relieved by Seth's answer and Seth almost reaches out to him to tell him he doesn't want to go anywhere. Almost.

They spend their afternoon barbecuing chicken with their hostess and the night taking a walk down the beach, the waves as raucous as the feelings in Seth's chest. They discuss their aspirations, the goals they want to accomplish, the routes they want to take to get there. Seth confesses to Dean that he wanted to be a painter when he was a kid. The next morning, Seth wakes up to a canvas, oil colors and brushes in the living room of the house. It's one of the most touching gifts he thinks he's ever received.

Dean takes Seth hiking for the day. They're the moon and sun when it comes to mountain climbing. Dean is an expert at it while Seth is anything but. Seth needs assistance the entire time even though - if he's perfectly honest with himself - a part of him is intentionally dragging behind to admire Dean. He's a sight to see in his shorts and dirty white shirt, lean muscles bulging through. He's flat out lusting after him and he hopes to god that his gawking isn't entirely too obvious.

They cap off their night downing beer after beer on the beach. They're kept warm by a fire they started with some branches, a cold breeze swirling through the air. As the booze flows, so do Dean's stories, the man revealing his romantic woes to which Seth's ears are wide open. He admits that he's had flings here and there, but no serious relationship in over five years, unwilling to go down a road of backstabbing and betrayal all over again. It pinches at Seth to hear that from Dean, but it resonates with him, and he tells Dean that his relationships have nearly all ended with either the other person cheating or attempting to use him to get ahead in their career.

"They don't know that they've lost the best thing that'll ever come their way."

Dean's reaction makes his heart thump in his chest that much harder, the blood in his veins simmering. His eyes are so soft yet so determined around the edges as he says it and Seth doesn't know how to breathe as well as he could a minute ago.

They fall asleep on the lounge chairs as the flames go off. Dean's head has nestled its way into the crook of Seth's neck and Seth's hand is keeping him there. Seth is woken up by increasingly loud wails ringing through his ears. Seth's blurry vision clears out as his eyes settle on the most surreal of sights. Lo and behold, a seemingly infinite flock of seagulls trail above the ocean, each of them chirping in harmony, their white wings contrasting against the slowly brightening orange sky.

"Dean..."

He shakes Dean's right shoulder to stir him awake. Dean groggily opens his eyes, slowly lifting his head.

"Yeah?"

"It's the seagulls. Look."

Seth can't tear his gaze away from the view at hand. He's never seen anything this mesmerizing before, has never bared witness to nature in all its glory like that. The spectacle goes on for interminable, enchanting minutes, minutes in which Seth has never felt more hypnotized.

"You were right... Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Yeah. It really is."

Seth turns his head to look at Dean, except Dean isn't looking at the birds. He's looking at him, gazing at him like he'd been watching _him_ the whole time. He was talking about _him_ , and the realization makes Seth's heart beat out of his chest, makes him lean down and capture the lips that he's wanted to kiss for days now. Dean kisses him back immediately, softly threading his fingers through his hair. They're right there together, so balanced, so in sync, both bursting with emotion, and Seth could swear that he's never felt more alive before in his life.

They hold onto each other when they pull away. Seth finds himself never wanting to let go of this moment, of this beach right here, of the man he's holding so tightly in his arms.

That morning signals their penultimate day together, tucked away in this sacred haven of theirs. The thought of leaving Dean fills him with dread. He can't quite come to terms that they'll be going their separate ways, especially after a perfect morning like the one they'd shared. And while his first instinct would be to sulk his sorrows away, he couldn't waste precious moments away like that, couldn't throw away moments he would never get back with the one man who's had more impact on him in a short few days than anybody else ever has in the last twenty-nine years.

Everything makes sense with Dean. Everything is easy. Nothing is complicated. It's just him and a man who now knows him like the back of his hand. He's never felt more connected to someone like that before, and part of him knows that he'll never be able to replicate that magic with anyone else again.

The clock is ticking on his heartbreak. And he can see it ticking in the depths of Dean's eyes, too.

When their last day rolls on, Seth doesn't see much of Dean. Dean tells him that he has to run emergency errands in town and that he'll be back in a little bit. That little bit turns into hours and it throws Seth for a loop. He would've thought that Dean would want to spend the entirety of the day with him. Clearly, he was wrong and his mind jumps to the worst assumption. Dean is probably trying to avoid him.

The hostess is also conspicuous by her absence. By his lonesome self, Seth decides to watch the trees wavering from side to side from his bedside window, rain pouring down in cascades on the outside, the memories of the last week replaying like a film on a projector.

A knock on his door brings him out of his reverie. Before he can answer, a note slips underneath it. Seth suspiciously picks it up and reads the scribbly writing.

' _Meet me at 5 on the beach.  
\- Dean._'

Seth's dampened mood is replaced by intrigue. The note is short and vague, but it has him on the balls of his feet. He's suddenly fidgety and jumpy, pacing all over the room. He doesn't play the waiting game very well.

His curiosity ends up getting the best of him. Ten minutes before he's supposed to, he storms his way downstairs. He walks out to the patio and heads to the gated pathway before he's stopped dead in his tracks. The entire wooden boardwalk is covered in roses. Seth's eyes widen as they carefully follow every red rose, each one clearly carefully placed. The flowers lead up to the beach. Seth peeks from behind a bush to get a closer look. He's stupefied by the reveal.

The golden sand is adorned with roses and a trail of warm hued candles. Light is gently peering through the fading dark clouds, the sunset making for the most fitting background to this spellbinding setting.

"He's going to love it, Dean. It's perfect."

Seth overhears the old lady reassuring Dean as he inches a couple of steps forward, finding a table set up close to the water, two chairs placed on either side. But what possibly stuns him the most, is seeing Dean barefoot in tuxedo pants and a baby blue button down shirt. Seth is so incredibly taken aback that he doesn't realize that he's now in plain sight, that his attempt at being sneaky has failed, that he's taken a few steps too far. Dean notices him right away.

"Shit, you weren't supposed to come down yet..."

Dean speed walks towards him as Seth looks around in a daze.

"How did you... How did you know roses are my favorite?" Seth blabbers, his eyes in utter disbelief at what they're seeing, still oscillating from side to side.

"You told me you always used to bring your mom a bouquet of roses because they were yours and her's favorite."

Seth's eyes settle on locking onto Dean's, the most pristine of blue zoned in on him with tenderness he's never known. Dean's attention to every word he's said to him amazes Seth. His kindness amazes Seth. He amazes Seth.

"I can't... I don't... I-"

"I'll go get you boys the pizza." The hostess chimes in, a knowing smile spread across her face.

He stays motionless for a few moments, before regaining the breath he didn't realize he'd held. "This is...amazing. This is so, so amazing, Dean..."

"Would've been more amazing if you'd waited a few more minutes, idiot."

Seth drapes a hand over Dean's left shoulder, like it'll anchor him to the ground. He shakes his head, because he's positive he doesn't deserve this much good out of a man.

"Why... What's the occasion for all of this?"

"It's May 28th. It's your birthday."

"Fuck..." Seth runs his other hand across his face, feeling ridiculous for losing track time like he has. "I completely forgot about it." Dean encircles Seth's waist with his arms, pulling the smallest of steps closer. "I haven't properly celebrated it in years. Haven't had a reason to."

"This year, you do." Dean replies. "Well, I hope you do."

Seth leans in to peck Dean's lips, like it's second nature. Dean places a kiss of his own on Seth, then another one, before pulling away. Seth bites his bottom lip, not quite getting enough of Dean's mouth on his'.

"Come on. Let's go sit."

They do as Dean suggests, taking their seats by the shore. The sun is fully setting, the sky a dark shade of orange, the hills still visible from afar. The lanterns are alit and the candles warm the atmosphere up.

The old lady comes back with two boxes of pizza and a fancy looking bottle of wine.

"Sorry I could only think of pizza for our romantic dinner. But I would've fucked it up if I'd cooked tonight..."

Seth places the palm of his hand over Dean's knuckles, putting an end to Dean's thought. "It's perfect."

They end up having a magical evening, full of laughter and stories about every stage of their life, so carefree that goodbye is a faraway thought in their heads.

It only strikes them when they take one final walk on the beach. Seth stops them midway to give Dean the dance he's apparently never had at his prom. There's no music at all. Just the beats of their hearts and the ocean roaring as their arms intertwine and their lips interlock.

When they make love later that night in Seth's room, the moonlight ghosting around them in a halo, the hurt is even more poignant in his chest. He's never felt as complete as he does in that moment with Dean inside him, his arms cradling Seth against him, his lips worshipping every inch of his body. For the first time in his life, Seth thinks he's fallen in love with someone, someone he has to leave in a few hours.

The next morning is brutal. Seth almost tells Dean how he feels, and he feels like Dean is on the verge of maybe doing the same. But he knows it'd be too cruel to just say it and walk away, to throw it out there and just leave. The separation is way too tough to contemplate. Seth sheds lone tears when he finds himself on his own, packing his belongings like it's the last thing he's ever wanted to do.

He's known this guy for a week and he already feels like he wants that week to carry on forever. He's so tempted to stay with Dean, so tempted to leave everything behind him and start a new chapter. It's insane, and Seth doesn't know what possesses him to make him feel this way. He doesn't what possesses him to make this feel so goddamn right.

Dean greets him with the saddest smile as he helps him carry the canvas he'd bought him. It mirrors how he feels inside. Broken, dejected but so damn grateful for everything they've shared together.

Seth hugs the hostess in a tight embrace, sincerely thanking her for her hospitality. She leaves them their privacy when they both unload Seth's belongings in his trunk. The silence is heavy, digging the knife deeper through Seth. If Dean feels what Seth feels, then he doesn't know where to start.

"So this is it, huh." Seth asks rhetorically.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

"We'll keep in touch, right? You have my number and email. You know where I live."

"Of course." Dean nods, the expression on his face unreadable. "We will."

Seth wants the pain to end, would rather lock himself away in the car and sob as he drives up the empty road. He takes Dean in his arms and presses a quick kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you again, okay?" Seth ducks down, his voice cracking, choking up as he barely utters the syllables.

Dean grabs him by the back of the neck and kisses him like it's the last thing he's ever gonna do. The kiss is all lips and tongue and feeling and pure unadulterated emotion and it consumes every bit of Seth's being. They tear apart when they need to breathe but delve back in time and time again, refusing to part ways. They lean their foreheads together as their eyes melt into one another. Reluctantly, Dean breaks their contact, from their foreheads to their arms to their fingers.

"Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

As he turns away, Seth lets a few more tears flow freely. He brushes them away with the cuff of his hoodie, trying to keep up a tough front until the last second. But he fails. He fails, and he's rooted to the spot before he can open the car door, knows he's doomed when he can't bring himself to unlock it.

He's turning away from the one man who's accepted him for everything he is, who's made him feel like he was worth something, who's shown him what freedom truly means, who's shown him what love should actually be. He's managed to change Seth so wholly in the span of one week, in a way so drastic that it's downright irreversible. And Seth doesn't want to go back.

The realization hits him like a freight train.

In this safe haven, in this little paradise away from the world, in the arms of a man who he's pretty sure has stolen his soul, he's found everything he's ever wanted. He's found a beautiful landscape to wake up to. He's found a getaway from the prying eyes that poisoned his life. He's found the light at the end of the tunnel. He's found someone who accepts him for everything he is, for every bit of good and every bit of bad he brings. He's found someone who listens to him like he could never get bored of him. He's found someone who echoes his mind. He's found someone who fills the missing pieces of a very empty puzzle he'd been trying to complete.

So how could he let an opportunity at true happiness pass him by? How could he say goodbye to a man who's taught him how to breathe? How could he leave him behind and go back to a life that brought him nothing but misery?

"I don't want to go."

Seth turns around on his heels, hand on the doorknob. Dean hadn't moved a single inch from his spot, hazy eyes honed in on him.

"I don't want to go." He repeats shaking his head absurdly, the words coming to him so easily, nothing else making any sense.

Something in Dean's face convulses and convolutes and Seth can physically see him riding out a wave of emotions. Dean is frozen, completely static, before something in him snaps.

"Then don't. Don't go."

Dean is suddenly jerked awake, his movements almost desperate as he walks closer to Seth.

"Don't go back. Stay with me."

Seth wants nothing more than to cave in to his instincts. He's torn, though, apprehension seizing him. Dean doesn't falter, though.

"Come to Vegas with me. Let's work out something there. Or we can both start fresh, clean slate. We'll figure it out as we go along, alright? Just..." Dean closes the gap between them, their faces barely a feather width apart and Seth feels dizzy from the pleading heat in Dean's eyes. "Don't go, alright? Don't go. Don't leave me. I know you feel it, Seth. I know you do."

Seth knows he's a goner the longer he gazes back at Dean. His body is on fire, adrenaline flowing through him, the choice suddenly so obscenely simple. When he nods in acquiescence, the warmth and disbelief in Dean's smile lets him know that there was no other option to begin with.

He'd follow any trail Dean ever leaves behind.


End file.
